Big Bird

From: Anonymous
Story type: Ghost
Location: Nottingham, England
Source: Form Submission

When my youngest son, Jonathan, was four years old, we were living in an 1830s house which stood on the old Richmond Road some 20 miles east of Charlottesville, Virginia. We had been living there for over two years and, up to that point, had experienced nothing unusual in the house.

One evening, when the children were asleep and my husband and I were watching a TV program downstairs, Jonathan came into the living room and said he was scared to be in his room because Big Bird is in there and hes going to get me. David and I thought he had had a bad dream and allowed him to stay up with us for a little while until we went to bed. He seemed all right when we put him to bed. His brother, Jason lay asleep in the other room. Everything had settled down and I was just about asleep when Jonathan cried out in what I can only describe as terror - I had never heard him scream like that.

When I ran into the room, he was sitting up in bed, his blue eyes round with fright, staring at the foot of his bed. Big Bird is going to get me, he cried. We went through the usual process of looking under the bed, in the closet, even the chest of drawers to prove to him that there was nothing - or no one - in the room. However, as soon as we would turn out the light, Jonathan would begin screaming again. Since nothing like this had ever happened to us before, we just assumed it was a passing thing and let Jonathan sleep with us for a couple of nights.

However, after a week of this, we began to see that there was a far bigger problem. Jonathan had used to love Sesame Street, but now, if he even heard the theme music playing, he would run from the room, yelling Big Bird, Big Birds going to get me. One time (among many), when I was questioning him, trying to find out exactly what was scaring him, I asked him to tell me how he knew that Big Bird was after him. Because I can see his feet sticking out from under my bed, he replied. Another time, he said Big Bird was sitting on his chest and he couldnt breathe.

We moved his older brother back into the room; that didnt help. Finally, we began playing some childrens gospel and story tapes when he went to bed, and he was able to sleep. However, every night he would wake three or four times and I would have to start the tape for him again. Each time it was the same thing - without the music, Big Bird could get to him. This went on for several months.

Finally, in late spring, we had purchased a home in the Shenandoah Valley and were making lots of trips back and forth, getting the new house ready and moving a few things at a time. Every time we came back to the old house, Jonathan would have an episode, as I had come to call them, but he was fine in the new house.

One night, as we were returning late from the valley, Jonathan lay asleep in my lap. I began to feel an overwhelming urge to lay my hands on his head and pray that if anything was trying to put fear into my son, that God would protect his thoughts and his heart. I prayed for a long time, feeling an almost urgent need to continue to pray. Just a few miles before we reached the house, the urgent feeling lifted, and I stopped praying.

That night, Jonathan slept through the night without waking. At first I thought that was the end of it, but subsequent nights revealed that he was back to his old pattern of waking and telling ! me Big Bird was going to get him. As usual, only the tapes allowed him (and me) to get some rest. Finally, there was the last night we were to spend in the old house; my husband was going to stay in the new house with my oldest son and Jonathan and I were to stay in the old house, alone. Needless to say, I wasnt happy about staying there, but circumstances made it necessary. Worse than that, the only bedroom furniture left in the house were the twin beds in Jonathans room.

We got ready for bed. Jonathan and I said his bedtime prayers, and we lay down and I turned off the light. No sooner had I done so, than I began to feel a presence in the room. Up to this point, I had never sensed anything in the house or in Jonathans room, even after he had just been awakened by his nightly visitor. But tonight, it was manifest - and it was malignant. A word came to mind just then - FEAR. Thats what this thing was - a spirit, an evil spirit, here to cause fear and terror in my child. I could almost see it with my minds eye, standing across the pitch-black room, and moving slowly toward us.

Just about this time, Jonathan sat straight up in bed and gasped, drawing in his breath like he was going to scream again. Something rose up in me at that moment that was completely outside myself, something strong, and righteous, and MAD! I had had enough - my child had had enough. I sat up in bed, looked right at whatever it was, and said, In the name of Jesus, you get out of here; you leave my child alone, and you leave my family alone, and you leave this house alone! At that instant, the air was clean, its oppressive atmosphere gone. Jonathan lay back down and instantly went to sleep. My heart was pounding, and I thought, Ill never get to sleep now. But I did. I dont remember anything until I woke up the next morning.

Well, we moved out of the house. Two years later, it burned to the ground. To my knowledge, there was never any association of hauntings or bad events taking place there, in the 150 years it stood on the site. Jonathan began watching Sesame Street again, and there was never any mention of Big Bird after that. Many years later, when Jonathan was 16, we were talking about the old house and I asked him if he remembered anything about those incidents. The only thing he said he could recall was that he felt like someone was in the room, and that when he looked down at the foot of his bed, he could see Big Birds feet sticking out from under the bed.